


The World is Changed

by orphan_account



Category: The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Smut, and shouldn't love jem, but guess what he still does, will thinks he's damned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22667518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jem is his greatest sin as it is. What difference, really, does a bit more make?
Relationships: Jem Carstairs/Will Herondale
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	The World is Changed

**Author's Note:**

> time period isn't specified, but i didn't mention tessa, so assume what you will. i originally planned a sequel with tessa but that's just...never happening.
> 
> title from oscar wilde.

Will regrets every decision he's ever made.

Olay, maybe not _every_ decision. But the ones that brought him here-- outside Jem's room at two in the morning, his hand hovering over the doorknob-- he regrets those.

But as much as he knows he should turn around as quickly as possible, go back to his room, and never speak of the things he's planning to tell Jem, he just can't.

Because Jem is his greatest sin as it is. What difference, really, does a bit more make?

He opens the door.

Jem is on his bed, on top of the blanket, a book in his lap. He's wearing a white linen shirt and black trousers, his feet bare. The witchlight stone on his bedside table fills him room with white light, washing out what little color Jem usually has in his skin.

Will gives himself one last chance to turn around. He doesn't-- he can't bring himself to, not with Jem right in front of him.

Jem sets his book down beside him, glancing worriedly at Will. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know how to answer that," Will replies, sealing his fate.

Jem raises an eyebrow. Will shuts the door and takes another step into the room, forcing himself to remain a reasonable distance from Jem.

"Will," Jem says, concern on his face, "whatever it is, you can tell me."

Will takes a steadying breath. "If I say this, you must promise that if you do not agree, you will simply send me away and we will never speak of this again."

"I will," Jem says, a look of questioning among the concern, "but after everything we've shared, I can't imagine that happening."

Will shakes his head. "That's because you don't understand yet."

Jem says nothing, so Will continues before he loses all nerve. "I say this know it is against the Law, not to mention all the other things that may make it wrong. But I feel as if I've tried everything. It has been years now. I _have_ tried everything. But you must understand, it's gotten so bad I can't ignore it. I can't sleep. I can't think straight." He pauses to compose himself, running a shaking hand through his hair.

Jem speaks before he can say anything else. "I don't want to guess what you mean for fear of getting it wrong. But...I believe I may know." He fidgets with his hands. "Please just tell me, so I may know if it's true."

"I'm in love with you," Will says before he can stop himself. "And I have been for years now."

"As I have with you," Jem says quietly, as if he can hardly bare to hear himself speak the words.

Jem's eyes meet Will's and Will finds no doubt there, no hesitation, only raw emotion, only sincerity. 

"I've imagined this moment for so long, and yet I never thought it would come. I half believe I must be dreaming,” Will says. He allows himself to come closer until he's next to Jem's bed, and sits on the edge. He's been closer to Jem thousands of times, and yet it's never felt like this, his heart hammering and threatening to beat out of his chest.

“You aren’t,” Jem says, his voice low, and he eaches out to touch Will’s shoulder, his fingers ghosting over the fabric of his shirt. Will shivers, digging his nails in his palms to prevent himself from doing all the things he wishes he could. 

And yet, it’s Jem who tightens his grip on Will’s arm, pulling him closer; they stumble together and before he knows what’s happening Jem pulls Will o top of him and Will’s breath catches in his throat. 

“James,” he says, his voice breaking, and he leans to kiss the other boy. 

Jem’s arms go to the small of Will’s back, and pull him closer until nearly every part of their bodies are touching. Jem’s mouth moves against Will’s, softly, hesitantly, the sharp-sweet taste of the _yin fen_ strong. Will tangles his hands in Jem’s hair as the kiss grows deeper. It’s overwhelming, and all Will can feel is Jem, his hands and his lips and his body under Will’s. 

When the kiss breaks, Jem is very nearly gasping, his skin flushed. “You’re good at that,” he says between breaths. 

“I have many talents. You should see what I can do with my hands.” Will grins as Jem’s eyes widen and he flushes darker.

“I...I believe you may have to show me that one,” Jem finally says, not meeting Will’s eyes.

“It would be my pleasure. Well, it would be _your_ pleasure, I suppose.”

Jem looks somewhere between scandalized and amused. When his eyes meet Will’s, though, they’re dark with desire, his pupils blown out.

Will’s never wanted him more. 

As much as he wants to rush, as much as all the years of pent-up frustration and desire are crashing down on him, he forces himself to stop. He pushes himself up, sitting back, his legs on either side of Jem’s hips. Jem fumbles a bit but manages to get himself in some sort of half-sitting position, his gaze fixed on Will. 

“You’re certain you want this?” Will asks before it can go any further. 

“Yes,” Jem replies with no hesitation. “Though if I’m to be honest-- and I suppose I must be-- I don’t quite know what ‘this’ entails.” 

Will smiles despite himself. “It can be a great many things. As I said, my talents are both varied and extensive. But,” he adds, his tone shifting, “if there’s anything you _don’t_ want-- anything at all-- tell me. That’s all I ask.”

Jem nods. “I will.” His cheeks are an impossibly dark shade of pink, and the way he’s looking at Will, a mix of desire and trust and innocence, sends a jolt down Will’s spine. 

Will reaches for the buttons of Jem’s shirt, forcing his hands to still as he undoes them, one at a time, one at a time, marvelling at each new bit of skin revealed. When he finally pushes it off, Jem is shaking slightly, gooseflesh raised on his arms. Will traces over the curve of Jem’s shoulders, the hollows of his ribs, the peaks of his hips. He touches the _parabatai_ rune, stark against Jem’s pale skin, his fingers light. 

“Will,” Jem says, his voice trembling slightly, “you don’t know how long I’ve thought of it, and yet I thought it impossible.” 

“I do. I know, because I feel the same way. I’ve loved you for years. Wanted this for years. Wanted-- no, _needed_ \-- you for years.” 

“Want me, then. Need me. And know I want you just as much, need you just as much.” Jem leans closer, his fingers on the buttons of Will’s shirt. His hands are shaking too badly to do much good. He apologizes and Will shrugs and pulls his shirt off, buttons scattering.

Jem’s gaze is fixed on Will, as if he’s not looking at the boy he grew up beside but some beautiful, rare thing, as if Will is made from ivory and gold. 

When he reaches to touch Will, it’s with a reverence unlike anything Will’s ever seen. As if Will is something impossible, as if he is every star in the sky brought down to Earth and placed before him. 

He burns where Jem touches, shivers shooting through his body. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this-- months? Years? Possibly never.

He bends to kiss Jem and they fall together again, chest to chest. One of Jem’s legs wraps around Will, pulling him closer. Will asps into Jem’s mouth. He can feel Jem hard against him, and he runs his hands over every centimeter of Jem’s bare skin, committing the feel of it to memory. His hand trails lower until it’s at the waist of Jem’s trousers, an unspoken question lingering, and Jem answers by kissing him deeper, by pulling him closer.

When his hand does slip beneath the fabric, Jem’s back arches up, his head falling back against the pillows.

“By the _Angel_ , Will, that’s-” he gasps, his breath catching in his throat, “don’t _stop_.”

He swallows Jem’s groans with kisses, his hand keeping steady time. Shyly, hesitantly, Jem trails his hand down Will’s chest and under the waist of his trousers, his movement matching Will’s. Will kisses Jem’s jaw, down his neck, nipping at the pale skin, hoping to leave a mark. 

Their movements fall into a rhythm until they’re shaking in each other’s arms and Will has to muffle his cries against Jem’s shoulder. Heat pools in his stomach, just between his hips. The pressure builds and he squeezes his eyes shut, the world going white behind his eyes, shock waves coursing through his body.

They collapse together, gasping, sweaty and spent. Will processes the fact that he should probably wash his hands and change his clothes.

“Jem,” he says, surprised he managed to speak a coherent word. “I’m going to clean up. I’ll be back.”

Jem nods, eyes half closed. “I will do the same as soon as I can feel my legs again.”

Will laughs and pushes himself up, stumbling back to his room. He washes his hands with water from the washstand, scrubbing a hand through his hair, and dresses in a clean shirt and trousers.

He returns to find Jem fully dressed. The open collar of his shirt reveals a red mark-- and the very edge of a second one-- on his neck. His hair is a mess, his skin still slightly pink.

Will’s reminded of every reason he loves Jem, and every reason why he shouldn’t.

(But what’s a bit more damnation if you’re already doomed?)

He curls up and sleeps next to his best friend, his _parabatai_ , and the person he loves the most.


End file.
